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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26011006">Moments of self-reflection/Lonely train ride</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelicasworks/pseuds/angelicasworks'>angelicasworks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>#tskymweek2020, #tsukkiyama week 2020, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Birthday Fluff, Blushing, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Internal Monologue, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Blood, No Smut, Non-Canonical Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, Overworking, References to Depression, Self-Reflection, Swearing, Third Year Tsukishima Kei, Third Year Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukkiyama Week</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:54:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,057</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26011006</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelicasworks/pseuds/angelicasworks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"He hates strawberry shortcake. He loves soggy chips. He also loves freckles, his habitually worn number 12 jersey and cool people.</p><p>Except no one matches that description anymore."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It is a rainy day in Tokyo, and a certain blond is in for some serious self-reflection.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tsukishima Kei &amp; Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Moments of self-reflection/Lonely train ride</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=moony-heart+on+Tumblr.">moony-heart on Tumblr.</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been exactly 6 years since it happened.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Tsukishima found himself strolling through the busy streets of Tokyo on one of his days off, his distinctive headphones perched atop of his head. Petrichor, a mild wind and a distant roar in the sky seemed to be portents of an incoming storm. He halted near a stoplight in sensing his hair sticking to his forehead, shifting his gaze to the sky as he let the music muffle out his surroundings.</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>He's back at the Karasuno High gym. The squeaking of their shoes on the floor, shared smirks, the swirl of emotions in the pit of his stomach and the jersey sticking to him after hours of practice after school are the only thing grounding him in the moment.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He fast forwards to later that night, returning home with him and finding his family ready to celebrate with a strawberry shortcake complete with candles and the sort.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He lingers in recalling his energetic slap to the back and simultaneous belly-laugh (something that never failed to make the corners of his own mouth twitch) prompted by a silly joke from nii – chan.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He focuses on the soft glow adorning his face while they stayed up watching one of the countless remakes of a dinosaur movie.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wallowing in those quiet moments in between scenes, where they’d shift so imperceptibly, somehow still ending up in each others’ personal space.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sighing at the memory of an 18-year-old Tsukishima clutching onto his best friend’s hand with enough strength that -in hindsight- could’ve almost been foreboding, if it wasn’t for the short and unequivocal confession that followed it.</em>
</p><p><em>Biting the inside of his cheek in reminiscing the following moments: Tadashi’s furiously blushing face, his free hand scratching the back of his head and purposefully avoiding eye contact. </em> <em>Him reciprocating with newfound determination after composing himself, sending Tsukki in a coughing fit long enough to hide his flushed cheek.</em></p><p><em> Their foreheads pressed together. The pitter-patter of the rain, Tadashi’s lemon-scented shampoo, their interlaced fingers</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He inhales sharply. He hates the next part.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The rest of the night passes in a blur – Tadashi leaving to bring him his forgotten birthday gift, to multiple glances to his watch, to a few calls that didn’t go through, to a distant siren, to the wet asphalt scraping his knees as he lunged to get a hold of his blood-stained shirt, to his last apologetic ‘Tsukki’.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>He is alone in a train carriage, with fractions of residential landscapes, patches of eventual green and a distant lightning occupying his field of vision. Simply sitting there and witnessing that view is both welcoming and alien to him, and compelling him to think and think and think.</p><p>He thinks a lot in those following moments, suddenly overwhelmed by this necessity to do some conscious self-reflection after years of deliberate emotional neglect.</p><p>He looks back at the blur that was life prior moving to Tokyo: his funeral, his brief conversations with Tadashi’s parents, their loss at the Spring Interhigh and placing third nationally with a team <em>he</em> led, after-school practice on his own or with Kagehina, running becoming his new hobby, the occasional looks he’d gotten from his classmates who didn’t know jackshit about the nature of their relationship, and graduation day.</p><p>While his only (voiced) reason for moving so far away from home was that ''it would've unlocked far more opportunities'', he had an inkling that the people around him knew he had ulterior motives, as they refrained from questioning his intentions aloud, yet assaulted him with this pitying look when they thought he couldn't see them.</p><p>Part of his reasons included not having to deal with <em>those</em> on top of what he had on his plate, the rest was just him running away from his emotions, which, he was well aware, was both lame and wrong. His first instinct has always been to remove himself from undesirable situations, and that coping mechanism has worked well with him, all things considered.</p><p>Minus the physical and mental toll <em>that</em> cost him.</p><p>And, while he blamed his tight schedule and his eluding nature most of the time, he also knew he had to acknowledge his issues in the near future, which worked well, given the earlier burst of motivation.</p><p> </p><p>He latches onto a pole with the train nearing his stop.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>All that’s left now is an unspoken promise to be better.</em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Tsukki is like that.</p><p>He forgets a lot. He sighs even more. He loves small talk, because the moment the conversation veers to something more personal and candid he shuts off. Sometimes he cries unprompted on public transport, except it is not 'unprompted' and his feelings are valid but he can't articulate their extent fully so his body compensates that way. He gets really motivated when faced with postcard-perfect views and has time to unpack his thoughts. Yet he purposefully ignores and demeans his sensations and feelings until he's so overworked that he can only sit in trains and watch his stop pass by.</p><p>And, if he gets time, he regrets most shit.</p><p>Like responding to a wave that wasn't meant for him, or wishing servers a great meal too. Or his cynical attitude back then, and downplaying his feelings for volleyball, his family, <em>Tadashi</em>, his teammates, his city and dinosaurs and the moon and <em>Tadashi</em> - all the <em>fucking</em> time.</p><p>He hates strawberry shortcake. He loves soggy chips. He also loves freckles, his habitually worn number 12 jersey and cool people.</p><p>Except no one matches that description anymore.</p><p> </p><p>Though he <em>does</em> try to be half as cool as Tadashi was: giving it his all as a university student first, and as a middle blocker for the F.C. Tokyo Volleyball Team later on. Doing small good deeds everyday even if they don't benefit him. Smiling at passers-by randomly. Calling himself 'lame' less often as he'd like.</p><p> </p><p>This way, maybe he'll make it up to him. Although he probably never will, all things considered.</p><p>Maybe, in the near furure, he <em>will</em> get over him, maybe he <em>will, </em>eventually, lose tenderness for him.</p><p>Or maybe he'll never get over how fundamental he <strike>was</strike> is to him, and how intrinsically soft yet persistent he was, and how much he needed that: persistence, regardless of the obstacles, regardless of the outcomes. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe <em>that</em> feeling will never go away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi! Thanks for reading!!<br/>All kudos and comments are appreciated❤<br/>(constructive criticism is welcome too!! don't hold back!!)</p><p> </p></blockquote></div></div>
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